I tip back my head
eyelashes catching pollen
and you're there watching
just like you always are
Summer nights make you come
alive again, though I know
you are very, very dead.
I can still feel the memory
the form you used to hold
Bundles of fire rain from
the trees, the reflections
of light within your eyes
make me believe you've seen
Hell.
Have you?
You're only ghost and bone now
and I know I'll wish on stars
everyday until I'm dust, until
there are no more to wish on.
I only want you to be warm again,
that's why I let the sun scald
my eyes, because it helps me
believe that we're burning
together.
In a list
A contest entry
- AP Book Contest: Get Published! (Last Chance!) by tinuelena.
1200 points, ended December 12, 2007, 53 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
I just wanted to say-- I came back to this several times while judging and decided I couldn't leave this poem out of the book.
It's the soul of this that will have our readers dog-earing your page so they can come back and channel your ache. This was beautifully done. Thank you.
Elizabeth -
I am stunned.
This will stick with me for some time.
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